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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28365783">Kisses</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PartTwo/pseuds/PartTwo'>PartTwo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>All That Never Glittered [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Portal (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blue Sky (Portal), Christmas, F/M, Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:55:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,486</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28365783</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PartTwo/pseuds/PartTwo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Portal Secret Santa 2020~ </p><p>Chell and Wheatley, married with children, enjoy Christmas and can't seem to enjoy a kiss. </p><p>(Technically an ATNG epilogue but you don't really need to read any of that)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chell/Wheatley (Portal)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>All That Never Glittered [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1188574</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Kisses</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was my entry for PSS2020! I actually smashed up two of the prompts that my partner wanted together - mistletoe kisses and opening presents. </p><p>For reference for those unfamiliar with the world this is from - Sophie is their oldest child, with an interest in baking and taking over the bakery with Chell, Rafael is the second kid who's a blind musician going to vocational school, Luis and Maya are the twins with an interest in politics and working on Foxglove respectively.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Wheatley liked Christmas almost as much as the kids, Chell noticed. He liked winter on the overall, the merriment of snowball fights that he usually lost, snowmen that the children roped him into helping with, the snow angels with the younger ones, Rafael’s winter concert and their growing repertoire of Christmas music they’d play and sing for everyone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he liked Christmas the most. He liked to give gifts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wheatley was a good gift-giver, Chell realized, too, but he had a hard time biting his lip and not telling the children what he got them or where he hid them. It got to the point where he’d wrap them - poorly, mind you - and hand them to Chell, sheepishly asking her to put the presents somewhere the kids wouldn’t get to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His gifts to her were surprisingly good too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sat on the couch and watched as he picked up scraps of wrapping paper as the Children tore into their gifts. Sophie got an apron, Rafael got a ukulele, Luis got a small collection of books, and Maya a soldering iron with a note that read “DO NOT USE WITHOUT UNCLE GARRETT - SANTA” in Wheatley’s scratchy handwriting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chell thought it was sweet how the kids played dumb to Santa’s existence for him - Maya figured it out and asked Chell when she was five, but the Santa stuff made Wheatley happy, so she played stupid to all but Chell. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once he’d tidied up the small storm of wrapping paper on the ground, disappeared upstairs and reappeared, he came over to the couch with a small box in his hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Merry Christmas, love,” He said as he handed her the box, “It’s not much, but…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” She said softly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Where’d he hide this? </span>
  </em>
  <span>“You didn’t have to.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He kissed the top of her head and sat down next to her. “But I wanted to.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She peeled off the wrapping paper, crinkled and bulky around the box. She remembered vaguely him mentioning some theorem or another about wrapping paper and surface area, but she couldn’t really recall the details. Clearly he hadn’t mastered the practical application of it. In the paper was a small cardboard box, and in that was a mug wrapped up in tissue to keep it from breaking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a simple one, with </span>
  <em>
    <span>World's Best Baker </span>
  </em>
  <span>written on it, but it was a good size, larger than the other mugs in the house. She remembered she’d complained about once or twice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hadn’t mentioned that in months. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smiled at it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You like it?” He asked, hopefully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” She said. She pressed a little kiss to his cheek, and went back to looking at it, “It’s perfect.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Remembered the mugs in the house were a little on the small side so…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dad,” Raf said, “Uh, not like I can really prove this, but Sophie said this had your name written on it. Says it’s from mom.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raf held up the package, shaking it slightly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” Chell said sharply, panicking as she realized the ink might spill, “Don’t shake that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Raf said, setting it down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chell got up and took the present, and then handed it to Wheatley, who tore into it like a kid on, well, Christmas. He opened the box and was presented with a fountain pen - silver and metallic blue, with his name, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wheatley Reyes-Wright </span>
  </em>
  <span>engraved on the clip. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh love,” He said, “It’s beautiful - you shouldn’t have.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thought it might make your grading more… Official, or something.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, the ink-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Underneath the first layer in the box,” She said, as he lifted off that section and found, in the bottom, a small bottle of green ink. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>green! My correction color!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know you don’t like red,” She said with a shrug.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wheatley tilted up her head and kissed her forehead, her cheek, her other cheek, and then pressed one soft, sweet kiss to her lips. Her arms snaked around his waist, and they’d have probably gone on for at least a moment longer if they weren’t interrupted by the sounds of exaggerated gagging. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, gross,” Luis said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m so glad I can’t see,” Rafael concurred. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lucky,” Maya said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chell only glanced over when she heard Sophie’s knuckles crack, and the three shout </span>
  <em>
    <span>“ow!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>one after the other. The three were nursing their shoulders. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Leave ‘em alone,” Sophie said. “It’s definitely gross but leave them alone.” </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The day went on as Christmases tended to, and then, as always, it was someone’s turn to host the Christmas Party. Aaron had long since thrown in the towel, hosting them. It was someone she didn’t really know very well, this time, and she was half tempted not to go. They went anyways, it was tradition after all, and she’d already made her contribution to the party - a ridiculous quantity of bread rolls. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The kids had already gone off to play some game. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was almost like when they first attended, together. It was at one of these that Chell learned two things - one, that she liked eggnog more than she thought she would, and two, that Wheatley wasn’t a lightweight, sure, but had great issues pacing himself when it came to his drinks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smiled behind the rim of her glass as she thought about it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She was a few-too-many-glasses in and felt very unlike herself. Maybe not out of her mind but very… Amused.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Her and Wheatley leaned on one another, his arm slung around her shoulders, giggling. His cheek pressed into her hair, her arm down around his waist, they wee the picture-perfect piss drunk couple. The children and older folks had long since left the party, and what remained was a group of absolutely trashed twenty-to-thirty-somethings.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was getting late. It was late before she got drunk but it was getting later now. She stood up on uneasy feet, using Wheatley's shoulder for support.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Home," She said simply, grabbing the cuff of his sleeve and tugging.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Home?" Wheatley asked. "So soon? Love party's hardly started," He slurred, flinging a flailing gesture at the remaining ten or so other people in the room.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She tugged his sleeve again. "Home," She insisted, "Wanna sleep."</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wheatley wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. "Oh trust me I'd be happy to sleep with you." </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She giggled. He had this unearned confidence when he was like this, but not one she didn't like. "Mm, we gotta get home for that." She stroked his hair affectionately.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"But I'm having fuuuun…" He muttered into her stomach.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"More fun than going home?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Mmm… No."</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She snickered into her cup at the memory. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm? What is it, love?” Wheatley asked, wandering towards her after saying hello to everyone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, let me in on the joke.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She grinned outright at him. “Remember our first Christmas party? You and I drank a little too much and-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>YesIrememberverywellthankyou!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He cut her off with a squeak, beet red. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just thinking about that,” She said, “Night after was nice too.” By then, she was just teasing for the sake of teasing him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I, uh…” Wheatley stumbled over himself, “It- Well… I mean sorta…” He cleared his throat, “Well! Uh, Garrett’s real happy he’ll be able to teach Maya soldiering with her own iron! Isn’t that good?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Speak of the Devil,” Chell said, gesturing with the bottom of her glass towards him as he approached. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey you two,” He said, as he jerked a thumb upward towards the ceiling, “You notice your predicament or not?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Predicame-? Oh,” Wheatley said as he looked up and stared at the piece of plastic mistletoe scotch-taped to the ceiling. “Oh.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean, I was wondering why you were so pink,” He said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh. RIght. It was the mistletoe, absolutely. You know me, not much of a, uh, man of PDA, you know-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can just say Chell brought up the first Christmas party,” He said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How’d you know!” He got impossibly more scarlet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How could I not?” Garrett said, laughing. “Well, you two know the rules,” He said, a little louder than strictly necessary. She could </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>the eyes on the two of them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked down at Chell shyly. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shrugged. They had four kids - what were they hiding? “If you’re okay, I’m okay.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wheatley leaned over and gave her a kiss reminiscent of the morning, reminiscent of every other kiss he’d ever given her - a soft, gentle little thing, brimming with affection and-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>come on!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Luis said, from across the room, cutting the two of them off quickly, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Again?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The room erupted in laughter and Wheatley looked like he was going to die. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“God, Raf, you’re so lucky you can’t- Ow!” He was cut off swiftly by another swift punch from Sophie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought I told you to leave them alone,” She said flatly, “They’re cute.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah they are,” Garrett concurred, “Real cute.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you all enjoyed! Happy holidays :D</p></blockquote></div></div>
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